Revolution
by Thistlecloud
Summary: A stranger appears on Shadowclan territory, dying form vicious wounds with the gleam of violence in his eyes. The most talented medicine cat apprentice in the history of the clans is rejected by Starclan without an explanation. Sparks of unrest stir in the hearts of many warriors, threatening to destroy the clans once and for all. Rated T for some blood.
1. Chapter 1

The smell of blood hits me suddenly, clogging up the other scents of the forest. I stumble back a few steps wrinkling my nose. Where had all this come from?  
I take a deeper breath, almost gagging on the rusty metical sent. This isn't squirrel blood or the blood of some random mouse that a hunting patrol forgot to take back to camp. This is cat blood. And there's a lot of it. I peer back over my shoulder. I can hear the hunting patrol scuffling around, talking louder than they should be. I only have to open my jaws and they'll come running, eager to investigate, to protect me. But I don't say anything. Something tells me that this cat has lost too much blood to live anyway. I take a step forward. Go back, a tiny voice yells in the back of my mind, what makes you think that it's safe to look around over there? What if the attacker is still around? You'd be dead. But I take another step forward and look around a fallen log. There, in a pool of fresh blood, is a cat that I've never seen before. I allow myself one horrible sigh of relief. At least it's not a Shadowclan cat. I lift my nose to the air, seeing if I can sent a fox, a badger, anything that might have done this. Nothing. The blood is all I can smell. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flicker of movement. The cat's chest raises and he unsheathes blood clogged claws. He's alive.  
I trot up to him, sniffing for the worst injures. A long gash on his belly, probably responsible for most of the blood. The top of one ear is gone, he's got a scratch on his face that might have taken out an eye, and several torn claws. He fought back, that's for sure. If I can get some warriors to help me move him to camp, then I can put some burdock root on his claws, mirgold and a lot of cobwebs on his stomach wounds. Some burnet and poppy seeds? No, not poppy seed, but perhaps some da- The world blurs and then goes dark as I hit the ground. I gasp for breath and try to focus my vision. The cat has somehow managed to tackle me to the ground and now has his claws as my throat. His blood is sickeningly warm against my belly fur and he has collapses what must be his full weight on me, crushing my chest. "What? Get off of me, Foxfood." I squirm, but I can't move him. He has one pale, ice-blue eye open, staring blankly at me. He opens his mouth to say something, I think but he coughs instead, spraying blood all over my face. From somewhere behind me comes the sound of crashing bracken. The hunting patrol. Muddystripe, Stormflower, Rowanpaw and Pinefoot.  
The strange toms abdomen heaves as he says, "d-don't come…any closer. I-I'll kill her" I wince as I coating of fresh blood dribbles down my side. This tom is going to die before he has time to kill anyone, if he keeps losing blood like that. His claws keep digging into my neck. "Ivypaw," I can hear Pine foot's voice, "hang in there. We'll get you out." I roll my eyes. "I can get myself out, thank you very much." That's actually not a lie. I could kick him in his stomach wound without too much effort on my part. It would probably kill him, or at the least be very painful, so I decide to wait on that.  
The tom growls. But his eyes are glassy, blank. He knows what happening. "Y-y-you have…to help me. T-t-then I'll let her go." he sinks his claw in deeper. I feel blood rolling down my neck, and this time, it's not his. "We'll help, mousebrain, just let go of our apprentice!" Stormfeather yowls, her tail lashing. It's no use. I feel the skin at my neck tearing, the stranger's hot, bloody breath in my face.  
I close my eyes and in one swift movement, I bring my hind leg underneath me and push. I feel the ragged, wet edges of the tom's wound against my pad, his screams of pain echoing in my ears. He stumbles back as few paces and falls, blood coursing out of him like a crimson river.  
"Ivypaw," Rowanpaw races to my side, "oh, Great Starclan, are you okay? That blood isn't yours, is it?" "I'm fine," I answer absentmindedly, my eyes fixed on the unmoving tom. We had to get him back to camp, immediately. "Muddysplash, do you think you can carry him?" I say. The tom looks puzzled, but nods.  
Stormfeather bristles. "You're going to bring him to camp? He just tried to kill you!"  
"Yes," I replied evenly, "but don't you want to know who he is?" She drew back her head. "Does it matter?" "A dying cat just tried to kill me, and I would like to know why." I didn't mention that I also really wanted to try to heal him, just because it doesn't look like he can be saved. I'm always up for a challenge. Muddystripe and Pinefoot host the tom on their back and I lead the way through the forest, Rowanpaw at my side with Stormfeather sulking at the back of the party. I worked my paws thought the forest floor. Silverpaw would never believe this story. We duck through the pine boughs and march into camp. 


	2. Chapter 2

You know those moments when you're in the heat of battle and an enemy is lunging toward your throat? You probably see your life flash before your eyes. Time seems to slow down.

I mean, I've never been in the heat of battle before and I've never had time slow down like that, but that's what everyone says happens.

When we walked into camp, time doesn't slow down: it stops. Every cat locks their eyes on us and freezes. I spot Sandfur with a mouse tail hanging out of his mouth. Oakpaw and his mentor, Thornfur, are locked in a motionless mock battle. Appleleaf is in front of the nursery with her three kits like little statues under her legs.

For some reason, instead of rushing the strange tom to the medicine cat den like they should have, my little party is frozen too, looking out over the crowd.

I swear by Starclan not one cat is even breathing.

And then someone lets out a shocked yowl and the camp explodes.

"What in the name of Starclan happened?"

"Ivypaw, are you alright?"

"Is that cat dead?"

"He looks dead."

"Is he a rouge? Why did you bring him back to camp?"

"Starclan save us! The Dark Forest is rising again!"

I muscle my way through the crowd, mercilessly shoving cats to the side. "Move over, mousebrains, give us some room to breathe. Stormfeather will tell you all the juicy details of our adventure, being the gossip that she is."

Before I disappear into the medicine cat den, I catch a glimpse of Stormfeather's face, her eyes narrowed to icy slits and her lips curled over snow white teeth. Deep down, I know she's not someone I want as my enemy.

Oh well. I'll remind myself to apologize later.

Inside the medicine cat den, I find that our only open nest is occupied my sister Diasypaw, who is gingerly licking her paw.

"Get out," I growl, moving to the side so that Muddysplash can bring the tom in.

"But I've got a thorn in my pad," Daisypaw says, her green eyes wide as she gazes at my blood-soaked pelt. "Hazelwhisker said that I could stay here."

"Mousebrain! Get out before I shred you and use that incredibly fluffy pelt of yours to stop his bleeding!" I unsheathe my claw and take a swipe at her nose, intentionally missing. Her ears flatten to her skull and she races out of the den in a blur, the thorn in her paw apparently forgotten.

"Lay him hear," I say to Muddysplash and walk father back into the den for the herbs. I have to stop the bleeding first. Cobwebs? No, too delicate. I reach for a pile of dried moss. I would simple use cobwebs to hold the moss in place.

I turned back toward the entrance. Eventually, if he survived the night, I would need to use Burdock root or marigold to stop infection, and he could use some strengthening herbs too, like Burnet. And I've always wanted to see how Daisy would do as a replacement for poppy seeds. Would then make him as drowsy?

I blink. Stop the bleeding first.

When I look at the stranger, I think it's too late. His fur is such a bloody, matted mess that I can't even see his coat color, and he looks so small I think he might be an apprentice. But then blood flickers around his nose, making a small red bubble. He's breathing, at least.

I roll him over and get to work stuffing his wounds with moss. I try to block out Sunspots' voice pounding inside my head_. If the patient is bleeding from the mouth or nose_, she would say,_ it normally means something's broken on the inside. Something that cannot be fixed. _

I finish binding the wound with cobwebs and move over to his torn ear, a less dangerous injury and easily fixed with a paw full of cobwebs. The wound on his face was harder because the blood form his ear had dripped down, making it had to locate the other laceration.

"Ivypaw! I heard that you needed me! You should have called for something like this!" Hazelwhisker skids into the den, spraying moss in my face.

I don't look up. "Keep your fur on, keep your fur on."

I start cleaning the grit and blood out of the tom's paws, cringing only slightly. If he has been walking anywhere on those, it's almost certain that they're already infected.

"Hazelwhisker, could you grab my some Burdock root for the store?" I mumble through a mouthful of blood and dirt.

She huffed. "Are you sure you want to use that? Why not marigold?"

"I'll get in myself then." I stand up.

She twitched her tail. "No, no, it's just… marigold is good too." She walks to the back of the store.

Really, I'd like nothing better than to get that furball out of my way. Between her and my fool sister, Daisypaw, the medicine cat den has become more a social gathering place than the fresh-kill pile.

I mean, Hazelwhisker did teach me a lot of stuff and all, and I'm grateful for that. But at this point, I know just as much, if not more than she does. I know that she secretly wants to be a warrior. Do I tell her that she should stop being a medicine cat? Or is that too arrogant and disrespectful, even for me?

"What- Oh!" Blossomstar stands at the entrance to the den. "Ivypaw! Sorrelstream said you were dead."

I close my eyes, claws sinking into the mossy floor, "Good morning to you too, Blossomstar. It's comforting to see that you get word of a dead clanmates from gossiping queens."

Hazelwhisker, who had come back with a mouthful of burdock root, cuffs my ear, "Do not speak to clan leader like that!" she hisses. I can almost feel her quivering with embarrassment.

"My clan leader doesn't speak to me any better." I mumble under my breath, rubbing my ear. "And if you could all clear out of the medicine cat den, it would be very helpful to me."

They don't move.

I sigh and tend to the stranger's paw, wrapping more cobwebs around it. Who was he anyway? The scent of blood and fast fouling flesh has covered up any clues about what clan he might belong to. Under his matted fur, I can feel hardened muscles, lean and perfectly sculpted. I rule out Riverclan. He's probably not a kittypet either.

"Ivypaw!" Hazelwhisker taps me with her paw again. "Honestly! Your leader asker you a question."

I groan. "What?"

Blossomstar is looking down at the body with unnatural intensity. "I…uh, I just asked who…who that cat is and what attacked him."

I push the scraps of burdock root back toward the store. "I don't know who the tom is, the blood is covering his sent. The wounds were from a cat, without a doubt."

Blossomstar tensions, "Thunderclan? I always knew they weren't below killing innocents for fun!"

I rolled my eyes. "How in Starclan am I supposed to know who did it? And who said he was innocent? Like I said, the blood washed away any sent that might have clung to him. Now, he needs to rest."

I shoulder past Blossomstar. I am hoping that me leaving the den will set an example for everyone else, even though the thought of leaving a patient in such delicate condition makes me shiver. I just can't work in there, with Hazelwhisker and Blossomstar twittering about like barn sparrows.

Outside, what looks like over half the clan is gathered. As soon as I step out, I've got more cats staring at me then an unguarded kit in a forest full of foxes. How in the name of Starclan am I going to explain this to everyone?

**A/N: Sorry about the lack of paragraphs in the last chapter (and maybe this one too, depending on how it turns out.) Please R&amp;R! I would love constructive criticism. More specifically, would you tell me if you think Ivypaw is too unlikable? She's supposed to be brusque, but I don't want to be turning readers off. Thank you for taking the time to read this.**


End file.
